


Hair

by OrangeVanilla



Series: Made of Stars [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Hand Jobs, M/M, and steve enjoys the internet, bucky barnes gets his hair done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7650628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeVanilla/pseuds/OrangeVanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky leans back against Steve’s chest, letting his head be moved so Steve can start braiding his hair. He curses the internet. He curses Sam more, because he introduced Steve to YouTube, and had the <em>audacity</em> to link an account with his Gmail, so now he’s subscribed to a bunch of beauty bloggers and accounts dedicated to puppies. </p><p>It was never this excruciating in their old apartment back in the 1930’s. His hair was shorter, and Steve couldn’t watch hours of Zoella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

“Sit still,” Steve frowns, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist to keep him in place on the living room floor. Steve’s been hassling Bucky all day, after he watched some YouTube video about how new hairstyles promote positive thinking. Bucky definitely regrets letting his hair grow out. “Bucky, get that frown off your face.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, only flinching slightly when Steve tugs a comb through a particularly harsh knot in his hair. “Yeah, Steve, because getting my hair pulled out is so much fun,” he scowls, huffing when Steve makes a big deal about setting the comb down. 

His scalp hurts after hours of Steve rinsing and combing and shampooing and rinsing and combing and conditioning and rinsing and combing and applying a _hair mask_ and waiting for fifty minutes while it set. Sure the back rub he got from Steve while he waited for the damn hair mask to be done was good, but he’s had his hair played with for almost two hours now, and it’s only just dry enough for Steve to continue playing hairdresser. 

Bucky leans back against Steve’s chest, letting his head be moved so Steve can start working. He curses the internet. He curses Sam more, because he introduced Steve to YouTube, and had the _audacity_ to link an account with his Gmail, so now he’s subscribed to a bunch of beauty bloggers and accounts dedicated to puppies. “I’m getting cramps,” he grumbles. It was never this excruciating in their old apartment back in the 1930’s. His hair was shorter, and Steve couldn’t watch hours of Zoella. 

“Bucky,” Steve’s tone is a warning of his patience being tested, even if his fingers don’t stop expertly twisting and weaving through Bucky’s silky hair. “I let you pick this house specifically because it has a nice garden for you to plant your pansies. Let me do this.”

A swift tug of Bucky’s hair stops him from arguing. Steve has a whole store’s worth of hair accessories to the left of him, and Bucky’s not pleased about the way he’s eyeing the pink flowery crown every time he reaches to grab pins. “Question is, are you gonna be Instagramming this?” Bucky asks, reaching carefully to the coffee table and grabbing a handful of tiny little Haribo gummy bears. He gets mostly red ones, which is probably the best part of this situation.

“ _No_ , Bucky, I’m just gonna keep this between us,” Steve’s tone drips with as much sincerity as Hitler promising not to invade Czechoslovakia, and it makes Bucky’s skin crawl. His pretty new hairstyle is gonna be seen by 4.8 million people at _least_. But hey, it might finally stop people from giving him looks of fear in the grocery store. “Tilt your head to the left.”

“You weren’t this bossy when you were skinny,” Bucky smiles fondly, raising an eyebrow when Steve’s thighs tighten around his middle, pulling him closer to the solid body behind him. Steve has a glorious habit of reminding Bucky that he’s now a big strong man, that he’s Captain fucking America. Bucky strokes his fingers over Steve’s thighs, thick and muscular, and he’s proud of the soft sigh of content he receives. “Remember I have a metal arm. I’ve still got the advantage.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one trapped by my legs, with your hair between my hands. I have short term advantage, tiger,” Steve chuckles softly, carefully working Bucky’s hair into a _fishtail Dutch braid_ that definitely took a whole night to learn. He might arguably be America’s most widely admired masculine role model, but he’ll be damned if he’s not allowed to learn how to do hair in his spare time. The best thing about free time is the internet, and how much he can learn. “Come on, tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Made some pie, took a shower, jerked off.”

Steve rolls his eyes, tugging Bucky’s hair deliberately when he starts snorting with laughter. “I meant about yesterday, you fucking skeevy shit,” Steve tuts, moving the flower crown a little closer to him and grinning when Bucky stops laughing almost immediately. “I saw you skulking around the laptop.”

Bucky groans softly, resting comfortably against Steve and refusing to be moved. “You’re impossible to surprise, Stevie, you know that?” he huffs, chewing through some little red candy bears to sate the disappointment. “Y’know, I was just trying to be a good husband. I gave you a blowjob, I’m sat here letting you priss my hair up, and I wanted to be all cute and surprise you.”

“Buck,” Steve smiles, scratching his nails lightly against Bucky’s scalp and taking note of how he relaxes at the action. “You don’t need to be cute and surprise me. If I wanted to find out, I could check the internet history.”

Bucky laughs sharply, closing his eyes and keening when Steve keeps scratching his head. “I found out about Incognito Mode, Steve, I’m living in the twenty first century. You’re never gonna find out about my secret midnight shopping.”

“Oh no, I won’t ever find out. Not even when a hundred bucks worth of flowers shows up on the doorstep like last time. It’s just the secret shopping fairy, right?”

“Definitely.”

They sit in silence for a while, Steve working at replicating a Princess Leia inspired fishtail crown braid, which is a mouthful to even _think_. Bucky starts falling asleep after half an hour of precise weaving and securing and whatever ‘pancaking’ is. The feeling of Steve’s ever careful fingers is too relaxing for him to do anything but just let his mind wander. 

He starts thinking about how Steve’s the loveliest shit in the world. He’s not one to get all cosy and cuddly about love, but he feels fucking lucky as hell to have Steve. Considering he’s been put through the mill with HYDRA, and Steve got made into a human ice cube, it certainly feels like some kind of fate that they’re together. It feels good. Bucky feels happy when he’s with Steve. Hell, they wouldn’t have had this even if they’d both lived through the war. Steve would have made it with Peggy Carter, and Bucky’d be left pining after Steve and his titties. 

Bucky loves that Steve’s his big bisexual beauty. But it definitely feels weird, knowing that Steve could have raised a family with Peggy if he hadn’t have made a stupid selfless decision. But this is his Steve. Stupid and loving and _his_. His Stevie. His since long before the war, before he had broad shoulders and a smoulder. Bucky fell head over heels for Steve after long nights spent together, sharing beds and holding hands and kissing hot and messy and full of tongue. He wants to protect Steve like he did back then, even if he doesn’t need it any more. He longs to cling and cosy up like a damn sap, because he’s in _love_.

It’s only when Steve starts easing little fake flowers into Bucky’s hair that he starts coming out of his thoughts, huffing softly to make his awareness known. “You’re doing really well,” Steve coos softly, curling the little green wire around a section of the braid and positioning the tiny orange flower. Bucky hums, rubbing Steve’s thigh with his metal hand. “I’m almost done. You look lovely.”

Bucky chuckles softly, watching the muscles in Steve’s legs clench and unclench as he moves. “I spaced out there for a while,” he admits, his eyes closing again as Steve keeps fussing with little paper flowers. “I just feel really happy, y’know? You make me happy, Stevie.”

Steve pauses for a few moments, unmoving until Bucky glances around at him. He looks a little glassy eyed, a small smile on his lips and an orange flower in his big hands. It takes a few clumsy moments, but Steve lets Bucky move his legs from around his waist so Bucky can move around and pull him close, hugging him tight and burying his nose in Steve’s fluffy blonde hair. 

“I love you so much, Buck,” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s chest, muffled by how he’s smushed against him. Bucky nods silently, squeezing his eyes shut and sniffling like he’s in an awful teen drama and he’s just found out his beloved childhood dog is about to die. He doesn’t cry much, not after seventy years of brainwashing. He cried on their wedding day though. Like a _sap_.

“C’mon, Stevie, come on my special boy,” Bucky soothes as Steve starts sniffling almost as badly as he is, rubbing his flesh hand against Steve’s back like he used to when he was sick. “Hey, we’re okay, aren’t we? Not as fucked up as we used to be. You even got my hair all pretty.”

Steve laughs softly, huffing when Bucky pushes him to lie on his back, the fluffy rug easing the slight thump. “God, Bucky, I missed you when I woke up.”

“Yeah, me and my hot mouth. Come on, finish my hair and take your damn Instagram picture, I need to tell you about my amazing surprise,” Bucky grins, grabbing Steve’s phone and dropping it on his chest. “We can get emotional later, after you get overwhelmed by how amazing I am. Come on.”

It takes five minutes of coaxing via kisses for Bucky to get Steve to sit up and take pretty pictures of his pretty hair for his pretty Instagram, which at this point is mostly full of pictures of Bucky and animals that visit the garden. Steve picks the one he took after telling an _awful_ joke to get Bucky to laugh. “Buck, you look lovely!”

“I look like a princess,” he says softly, cosying up to Steve’s side and watching him ponder over a caption like he always does. “Even with the metal arm.”

Steve hums, going with a simple pink sparkly heart as a caption and uploading it. “Princesses can have metal arms. You’re as good an example as any,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and setting his phone down. Bucky closes his eyes, stroking his fingers against the inside of Steve’s thigh. “Come on, tell me about this surprise.”

“We’re going to the fuckin’ Bahamas, Stevie,” Bucky grins proudly, laughing when Steve actually gasps like he’s just won the lottery. “I’m takin’ you to the beach, and I’m gonna force feed you cocktails in the nude until you can’t _stand_.”

Bucky’s on the floor before he knows what’s happening, Steve straddling him and kissing all over his face like they’re teenagers all over again, and Bucky can’t help the grin when Steve traps him against the fluffy rug. “Bucky, you’re a fucking _saint_!” he grins, being mindful of the mound of hair accessories still on the floor as he clings to Bucky like he’s not almost 200 pounds of muscle and love. “God, I’m gonna give you the _best_ fucking blowjob tonight!”

Bucky hums softly, scratching his metal fingers against Steve’s back and relaxing against the floor. He feels like he’s being trapped by a bear, but he can’t complain. It’s a bear that looks like Stevie, anyway. “Next week. We’ve earned time away, right?” he smiles, closing his eyes and letting Steve kiss softly along his jaw.

“Gonna give you five blowjobs,” Steve grins, stopping to bask when Bucky pets at the small of his back with his metal hand. “Fifty blowjobs. A _million_ blowjobs.”

Bucky chuckles gently, careful to rest his head gently on the rug so his hair isn’t messed up. “Stevie, I don’t need blowjobs. I just wanna make you happy.”

Steve leans in close to Bucky’s ear, his lips grazing the lobe. “Fucking sap,” he whispers, groaning when Bucky nails him with a jab to his side. He lets Bucky roll them over, so he’s straddled and pinned against the floor. It doesn’t help that Bucky’s ass is right against his dick, and his hands are against his pecs. “Buck.”

“My Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, stroking his hands against Steve’s warm flesh. He’s glad Steve rarely wears a shirt when they’re in the house any more. “My beautiful Stevie. Wanna fucking kiss all over these tits. You’re so gorgeous.”

“Bucky,” Steve says like it’s a promise, watching as Bucky rubs over his chest. “Bucky, Bucky, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, beautiful,” Bucky says proudly, leaning down to kiss at Steve’s sternum and trailing over to lick and suck as Steve’s perky nipple. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever known, aren’t you? I love your little hips, this big chest, your pillowy ass. Like a fuckin’ wet dream.”

Steve groans low in his throat, tipping his head back against the rug as he starts getting uncomfortably hard against Bucky’s ass. “Bucky, there’s lube in the little nook of the coffee table, if you could-”

“You want my fingers in you, huh?” Bucky grins, grabbing the little bottle of lube without looking and popping the cap open. “Want me to open you up? Should I use the metal fingers on you, Stevie?”

For someone with a braid full of paper flowers, Bucky’s never looked so fucking _sexy_ to Steve. Maybe it’s something to do with his pretty hair. Or maybe it’s how he’s pulling Steve’s briefs down and coating the fingers of _that damn sleek metal hand_ with lube. Steve goes moves so he’ll be on his stomach, stopped by the raise of an eyebrow.

“I wanna see you when you come, honey,” Bucky says, moving between Steve’s legs and smiling proudly when Steve tents his legs and lifts his hips. “My good boy. My amazing boy.”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve whispers, gasping when Bucky strokes the tip of his middle finger over his hole, tapping gently. “I missed this, you know that? Back when you went off to war, I used to read your letters and think about the first time you- _oh_ ,” he moans when Bucky presses the tip of his finger just past the tightness of his entrance, thrusting slowly to ease it in further.

“Bet the metal fingers weren’t part of the fantasies, huh?” Bucky grins, curling his finger once it reaches the knuckle. “Used to jerk off thinkin’ about you. I used to think about how you let me keep you warm in the winter, all cosy and sweet and small in my arms, you remember that?”

“Jesus, Buck, you really jerked off to us cuddling?” Steve laughs breathlessly, groaning as Bucky presses another slick finger inside him. “I knew you were weird, but that’s just perverse. You can get put on a list for that kind of shit now, probably.”

“Don’t make me ram my whole fist up you, Steven Grant Rogers. You’re the one who got horny after doing my god damn hair all pretty.”

Steve shoots him a look. “I’ve got horny over less. Speaking of horny, do you-... do you ever think we take things too quick?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, spreading the two fingers inside Steve carefully and grinning when he moans. “You really wanna talk about this shit when I’ve got two fingers in you?”

“James Buchanan-”

“Alright, fuck, don’t use the name,” Bucky rolls his eyes, making no move to take his fingers out, instead curling them slowly. “We waited seventy years to be with each other again. Hell, all the fooling around we used to do got me hot, but this is... it feels like we earned it.”

Steve hums softly, closing his eyes and curling a fist into the fluffy rug when Bucky wraps his right hand around his dick. “You earned it more than I did. I just got stuck in ice for-”

“Don’t you _dare_ start that shit on me, Stevie,” Bucky frowns, squeezing at the base of Steve’s cock and pumping slowly. For a man with flowers in his braided hair, Bucky’s still very comfortably in charge. “You went through as much shit as I did. A pound of steel is still as heavy as a pound of horse shit.”

“I’d take ice over HYDRA any day,” Steve says softly, a startled shout escaping his lips when Bucky thumbs over his slit. Talking about deep emotional topics while getting a handjob isn’t the sexiest date idea, but its two birds with one stone. “You deserve a break more than anyone.”

“Yeah, well, all I want is you,” Bucky admits, easing a third finger inside Steve and smiling proudly when Steve makes a little whimpering noise. “See this right here? Heaven. Complete bliss. I got all I need now, Stevie,” he says gently, working his hand a little quicker, “I got you and a nice house. I can make people happy. My sexy evil arm is getting a regular workout, between baking and your weird kink for-”

“Alright, alright, shut up,” Steve huffs, nudging his hips up into Bucky’s hand and swallowing hard when the movement makes Bucky’s fingers glide against his prostate. “Fuck, I love you. I’m not gonna let you out of my sight on vacation, I’m gonna give you piggy back rides everywhere and I’m gonna draw you naked and I’m-”

Steve’s rambling only stops when there’s a wetness at the tip of his cock; slow, small laps of a tongue that make him keen. “Oh sweet fucking merciful _god_ , Bucky, you’re so amazing,” he groans, letting out a worryingly high pitched noise when Bucky curls his fingers _hard_ against his prostate. “Fuck, I’m- Bucky, please!”

“Come on, Stevie, come for me,” Bucky urges him, his right hand slick with precome and gliding up and down Steve’s hard length. Steve does as he’s told, hips rolling down against Bucky’s fingers as he groans his name. “My good boy, aren’t you? My amazing boy, you’re so good.”

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers, relaxing against the floor and huffing as Bucky slides his fingers out. “I love you. You know that? D’you want a blowjob?”

Bucky chuckles softly, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table and wiping the admittedly impressive amount of come from Steve’s stomach. “I don’t want a blowjob,” he says as he lies down on his belly beside Steve on the floor, “but thank you.”

“Handjob?”

“Nope.”

They lay in silence for a while, Steve’s phone buzzing every so often with texts and notifications. “Think I’ll get a modelling contract with my sexy new hair?” Bucky smiles, letting Steve pull him into an almost painfully tight hug.

“Definitely. Sexy metal arm, sexy hair, a cute butt.”

“A _sexy_ butt.”

“A _very_ sexy butt.”

They share a kiss, sweet and innocent and with no tongue whatsoever. It feels familiar, like old times.

**Author's Note:**

> because the world needed bucky barnes to get his hair braided by his big beautiful husband.
> 
> recently i've had a few financial issues, and i'm thinking about opening commissions for fics. so again i pester you for interaction, because i'm wondering if any of you lovelies would be interested? i'd mainly be down with evanstan/stucky, but man i'm trash for so many ships
> 
> as always, feel free to send me some sin at my tumblr, [buckys--plums](), or just talk to me there. i'm a slut for human interation <3


End file.
